Page 14 of Saving Her

Fuck.Him.

I swing around to face my tormentor, his body so close, those eyes holding mine. I glare, and glare, and glare some more, but all he does is stare right back. There’s still no smirk. He’s devoid of the toxicity that usually forewarns of an impending strike.

All he gives me is stony silence while he traps me in the cage of his arms.

“You’ve got the wrong woman.” I raise my chin, strengthening my resolve. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but it’s not me.”

I rebuild my mental walls, frantically attempting to make them stronger and stronger as he remains a brutal force in front of me.

I have no family.

No weaknesses.

No vulnerabilities.

There’s only here and now. There’s only Luther and this unending hell.

“I know you’re scared.” He gentles his voice, the delicate sweep of his breath brushing my lips. “But I know who you are. There’s no mistaking it.”

His softness is foreign. The look in his eyes is, too. Everything about him screams of sanctuary, but it’s all a trick. A twisted, manipulative strategy.

“Stop it.” I glance away. Each inhale is pained, the air filling my lungs carrying tiny thorns to pluck me from the inside out. “Leave me alone.”

He’s triggering my hope and there’s nothing more dangerous to my stability. My hands shake from the internal battle of optimism and reality. I have to harden myself, to remember all the things I’ve endured and how the living nightmare never ends. There’s no savior. No peace to come.

There’re only beatings. And rape. And eventually, the peace of death.

“He lives in Portland,” he continues to stoke my insanity, making my pulse spike. “I’ve been working with him.”

“Stop.” I squeeze my hands into fists, digging my nails into skin. He’s filling my head, suffocating me with lies. I don’t want to drown. Not from this. Not from longing.

It’s too much.

My lungs squeeze.

My heart hurts.

“He’s been dating—”

“Stop,” I scream, my hand lashing out to slap across his cheek. “Stop.”

My palm burns with the contact, the pain quickly sliding into my chest, restricting my air.

Oh,God.

He snaps ramrod straight, his eyes blinking in a daze.

Oh,God.

I hyperventilate through the mania, not realizing the stupidity of my mistake until the dark red of my attack seeps across the left side of his face.

Oh,God.Oh,God.Oh,God.

The damage I inflicted is blindingly obvious. It’s a mark of defiance. Undeniable evidence of my rebellion.

“It’s okay.” He backs away. “Don’t panic.”

It’s too late for that. I’m in full-blown hysteria, my breathing rampant as the glass door slides open down the hall and pounding steps approach.

---